


Unspoken

by FaultyParagon



Category: Eve no Jikan | Time of Eve
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-09 03:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaultyParagon/pseuds/FaultyParagon
Summary: Atsuro Masaki is prouder than any father can be of his little Masakazu, but the wounds his son suffered in childhood run deep. It's time to hear what Tex has to say.-Takes place 5 years after the series/movie.





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a fic I wrote two years ago for my FF.net account.

Unspoken

"So this is it, my son." The words were full of pride, and Atsuro meant it – standing before him in the fading sunlight was a young, confident man, brown eyes clear and smart blazer neat and crisp. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, taking in the image of his son and committing it to memory. For years, this boy had been his only reason to keep working, and seeing him all grown up and ready to head out to a prestigious university was almost too much for his heart to take.

_What did I do to deserve such a wonderful son?_

Unfortunately, it looked as if Masakazu didn't share his sentiment. There was something unmistakably worrying in his expression – Masakazu had never been the best liar, after all. His brows were creased, eyes darting back and forth, his lower lip the victim to incessant nervous chewing, to the point it looked to almost be bleeding.

Reaching out a hand, he clapped his son on the shoulder, squeezing firmly against young muscle and strong bone. "Don't look so nervous, son! What's on your mind?"

Masakazu opened his mouth briefly, then closed it again, distrust flashing in his eyes before he looked away. It wasn't a new expression to be directed at the elder – no, he knew his son spared little affection for him, due to his fervent campaigns against androids – but it stung nonetheless. After a moment, he simply responded, "No, it's – it's just…"

Atsuro waited a moment before withdrawing his hand from Masakazu's shoulder. "Well, no matter what, you did it! You've really worked hard, my boy. And you're all packed up, ready to move to your dorm, and-" he paused, glancing at a flashing icon on his open computer screen, "-it looks like your taxi is here!" Peering up into his son's face, he smiled softly. "Hey, did you want me to come with you?"

"No, dad, I just…" Masakazu slowly straightened himself up, resolve filling his gaze. "I guess I'll be heading out then."

As his son turned to face the front door of their small apartment, however, the realization struck the elder man full force. _He's leaving. My son's leaving. _

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed his son's larger suitcase and dragged it further back into the living room. "Well, you don't _really _need to go right now, do you? The taxi can wait."

"Dad," his son protested tiredly, "it's impolite to leave them out there for too long."

Atsuro waved his hand airily, laughing. "Oh, let me see you for a bit longer! It's not like you're a kid anymore – the taxi won't suffer, since we've rented him for the whole day anyways." Raising an eyebrow, he added, "What, want to get rid of your old man that much?"

"No, it's not-" his son began, but he abruptly paused, focusing on a figure behind Atsuro.

Surprised, the elder spun on his heel, and was unable to contain the groan as the stout metallic figure came into view. The faint lamplight shone upon the android's metallic skin, the monitor from where he had been working on Ethics Committee papers glowing eerily in the dim lighting of the evening. Disgust filled his heart as he looked at the wide, unblinking blue eyes of the THX model he had been using for the last decade and a half. _Why's Masa staring at such trash? That bot's good for nothing but sorting files…_

Masakazu's hesitant voice broke Atsuro's focus away from the THX. "I'm not a child anymore, right?"

Atsuro couldn't contain the smile and innate well of pride in his chest as his son spoke those words. "Well, yes…"

"I'm responsible for my own actions?" His voice continued, unsure, eyes still locked onto the THX.

Uneasiness began to grow in the pit of the elder's stomach. "Masakazu, I don't see where this is going…"

"I can take care of myself, right?" It was more of a statement – cold, almost lifeless – than a question, but Atsuro continued to play along.

"Well of course! You've become a fine young man – what, are you doubting yourself now?"

Before his very eyes, his son straightened his back, holding his chin up proudly before announcing past Atsuro, "I'm not a child. I am no longer under parental control."

The unease just wouldn't stop. "You're worrying me, what-"

And thus, the unthinkable began.

With brisk strides, Masakazu pushed past Atsuro, who felt himself glued in place as he watched his son kneel in front of the old android. The young man placed arms on the robot's shoulders, the force of his grip causing the wires linking the THX and the monitor to tremble. "Tell me, Tex – what were you going to tell me that day?"

Hearing his son's voice broke him out of his stupor once more. "What are you doing Masakazu –"

"Shut up!" Masakazu's voice felt almost alien to Atsuro, as cold and harsh as it was. Turning back to the the THX, his pressed on, "Tell me. Five years ago – back in the café - _what did you try to say that day?_"

Atsuro stumbled over to the monitor, immediately closing down the files he had had open for the Ethics Committee, and began searching through the logs on the THX's database from the aforementioned time. "Masakazu, this isn't funny – the THX hasn't ever left this apartment-"

Then it hit.

Unbidden in his mind, the image of his son sheepishly scratching his head as he lifted the THX back inside the apartment sprang to mind. The same rush of fury from back then flushed his body from head to toe as he realized the truth of his son's words.

_He told me he had simply brought the model outside, and that nothing had happened. I didn't bother checking the data log because Masa told me it wasn't anything serious. _He clenched his fists, knuckles drawn and pale in anger. _Did this piece of trash disobey orders? Did it speak to him?_

Frantic now, Atsuro's fingers flew over the keyboard as he rummaged through the data logs to find the day in question. Finally, he was able to bring up the logs from that day-

"_The data is corrupted?!" _Atsuro shrieked, checking and double-checking the logs. Nothing had ever been corrupted upon this model in the past – the only one who had access to the files were Atsuro, after all, since Masakazu had never been given the passwords – only Atsuro and-

_The robot corrupted the files itself. _

It terrified him. The robot had willingly ruined its own information, localised to that one day? It could _make choices like that on its own?_

With trembling hands, he clicked open the only salvageable video file, letting the tinny, static-filled recording permeate in the room around them as the monitor lit up. The screen automatically widened, filling his view, and the scene – which had been recorded through the eyes of the THX model from a first-person view – unfolded.

It was simply Masakazu's face.

His son's face – _god he looks so young in here, this _must've _been from back when he was sixteen, back during the time I'm thinking of – _was the sole focus of the THX's vision. His expression was twisted, warped, with nothing but pure desperation and grief covering his face. It looked as if the younger boy had been holding someone, arms wrapped tightly around a larger man's torso who fought to break free and flee behind the teenager.

"What the hell is going on here, Masakazu?" Atsuro whispered, horrified.

_Why are you crying in front of this robot?_

Finally, the blurry, youthful face of his son began to speak, voice choppy and broken. "I need- I need you to keep talking." Faint murmurs could be heard from behind the THX, but Masakazu cried vehemently, "I can't let him go! Just tell me: what, Tex? What were you thinking? How did you feel? All that time?"

Tears began to fill Atsuro's eyes as he watched his son show more emotion towards the THX than he had seen himself in years.

"Always, you were watching right next to me. Tex – help me understand! Please! Just speak to me!" And with that, Masakazu broke down on screen, grip loosening upon the stranger's torso as he fell to his knees, sobs wracking his young, thin body.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the boy's stifled sobs.

"Though I was unable to speak with you – I always wished to remain with you." The soft, electronic voice which echoed in the room made Atsuro's blood run cold. That voice sounded more upset, more broken, than anything Atsuro had ever heard before in his life. "Masakazu – I –"

Masakazu's face filled with hope, and he completely let go of the stranger in order to lunge forward, face dripping with tears, arms stretched out in an embrace.

"I have – I have always-"

Then the door shut behind Masakazu, and the audio ended. All that remained was the image of Masakazu, voice moving soundlessly, pantomiming grief and mouthing the THX's nickname over and over, until the visual also cut out.

The silence which followed was unbearably tense. Atsuro could barely react, looking at the pale white bloodless skin drawn over his tired knuckles, shaking uncontrollably before his eyes.

"What the hell was going on that day? You lied to me, Masakazu. You lied." No response. Turning his attention to the machine, he continued, "You spoke, THX. You are not allowed to speak." It took all his effort to hold his voice back, as he struggled to make sense of the image he had just seen.

"I was in danger. Preserving human life is more important than any parental order." Unlike him, Masakazu's voice was filled with emotion – almost as much emotion as he had shown in the video. "Tex just wanted to protect me."

"Do _not _call it 'Tex', Masakazu Masaki, it is a robot, it does not feel-"

"Tex _protected me, _Dad! Why do you keep trying to deny that?"

"I don't care what you think, you idiot, just get away from-"

"I'm 21 years old, I'm not an infant, you can't put a fucking parental lock on Tex anymore!" Masakazu practically screamed over Atsuro's voice, shoulders heaving in the exertion. He made no eye contact, not even bothering to glance his father's way; instead, he simply drew his head up slowly, looking the android in the eyes with such longing his father had never seen.

"I'm 21 years old, Tex," he murmured. "I'm moving out to university. Dad's going to scrap you, knowing him. I… I can't leave until you tell me what you tried to say that day." The THX model stared blankly at him, stock-still, its skin reflecting the fading sunlight sharply into Atsuro's eyes. "Please, Tex. The parental lock is expired. Please speak to me."

A long pause, and then, from deep within the base of the machine, the same robotic voice from the recording whispered, "I have always watched over you, Masakazu."

"Oh, Tex," Masakazu cried, face scrunching together in joy as he wrapped his arms around the android's wide shoulders. "I missed you so much."

Atsuro heard the sound of snapping plastic and metal before comprehension and pain kicked in, his hand screaming in pain from where he slammed it onto the keyboard and broke it. "THX, don't talk to him! Why are you ignoring my order?"

The THX unplugged the cords connected it to the monitor and rolled forward, wrapping its own stubby arms around the young man's shoulders. "I have always wanted to speak to you, I am so sorry-"

"Don't talk to him, you damned robot!" Atsuro screeched.

"I have always wanted to play with you again."

"Don't you _fucking say it!_" Atsuro stood on his feet, feeling light-headed and extremely focused all at once upon the sight before him.

The THX continued, "You are my family, Masakazu."

Lunging for the robot, Atsuro grabbed Masakazu's shoulder and tried to pry his son away, screaming, "Don't listen to this robot! Shit, I need to deactivate it-"

"I love you."

Those three words, in that same, robotic voice, were enough to still Atsuro in his rampage.

He felt nothing.

_Love?_

Masakazu pushed his father's hold off of himself, tightening his grip around the THX. "I love you too, Tex."

"Thank you for waiting, Masakazu."

Tears shook his son's body, but his voice was filled with unadulterated joy. "Thank you for supporting me, Tex. You're family. You're family…"

_He's never called _me_ 'family'_ _before. _

Atsuro sat there, left on the floor, for a long time – long after Masakazu and the THX said their goodbyes, their thanks, and Masakazu had grabbed his bags and walked out the door. For a long, long time, Atsuro just stared at where his son, that proud, handsome, capable young man he had been so proud of only hours before, had sat – with his arms wrapped around the neck of the very android Atsuro had tried to make his son hate all those years before.

Suddenly, the screen of his phone lit up on the table beside him, and he pulled himself up to read it. The illuminated words shone eerily in the now-dark room, as the sun had left with the departure of Masakazu.

"I'm probably not coming back for the break," the text read. He didn't need to read who the sender was to know it was Masakazu.

After a moment, another message came in.

"If you're going to kill him, don't make it hurt."

Atsuro placed the phone on the table and dropped his head into his hands, tears filling his eyes. Masakazu was right about one thing: he was going to scrap the THX. It was too dangerous to leave it with any semblance of free will, especially not with all of the classified Ethics Committee information stored upon it-

But why was Masakazu saying it like that? 'Don't make it hurt?' Robots didn't feel pain, though. Masakazu should know that better than anyone – a young man of his background could only get on a full-ride scholarship for robotics law if he knew every nook and every cranny of how androids functioned.

And yet, he believed that the THX would suffer? If androids did feel pain, and were truly sentient like humans – if their AI had evolved to the point that they were on even semi-equal grounds to humanity – would that mean that everything he had ever worked for, everything the Ethics Committee had ever done, was something akin to destroying an entire group of _people_?

With his head still in his hands, and nothing but the light of two eerily blue-lit eyes illuminating the darkness, Atsuro remained silent, motionless.

He didn't know anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
